Lady Macbeth cries:
Here's the smell of the blood still:
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand.Milton has Eve say of her dream of the fatal apple:
... The pleasant sav'ry smell
So quickened appetite, that I, methought,
Could not but taste.Likewise with the sense of touch:
... I take thy hand, this hand
As soft as dove's down, and as white as it.Imagine a person devoid of delicate tactile imagery, with senseless finger tips
and leaden footsteps, undertaking to interpret these exquisite lines:
Thus I set my printless feet
O'er the cowslip's velvet head,
That bends not as I tread.Shakespeare thus appeals to the muscular imagery:
At last, a little shaking of mine arm
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound
As it did seem to shatter all his bulk
And end his being.Many passages like the following appeal to the temperature images:
Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,
Thou dost not bite so nigh
As benefits forgot!To one whose auditory imagery is meager, the following lines will lose
something of their beauty:
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here we will sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness and the night